Muggleborns at Hogwarts
by itsayspull
Summary: Muggleborn head cannons from across the internet written up, with Harry and the gang. Very AU- they are in 4th year and Voldie is destroyed already. Also, probably OOC and a couple of OCs... Just a bit of fun, really, with as many muggle culture references as can be stuffed in one fic. It will probably have some Drarry- I would try not to, but I like them too much...
1. Chapter 1

**Incredibly AU, so Harry's fourth year takes place in 2013. Voldemort did exist, but he has been defeated for good now, and the death eaters are either in Azkaban or have bought their way out again (*cough* Malfoy *cough*).There are probably going to be some OCs cropping up out of the blue, but that is because there aren't enough muggleborns. And everyone else is at least slightly OOC….. **

**Also, no triwizard tournament, and Lupin is still the defence teacher. No-one cares that he's a werewolf. They just roll with it. **

**Okay, so most of these are coming from Tumblr- muggleborn headcannons. If I know whose idea it was first, I will say, but feel free to correct me. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: the characters belong to JK Rowling, and this headcanno is the property of dick-jenga on tumblr ;)**

September 23rd, 2013

It seemed that half the Gryffindor house hated Draco at this point. Everyone knew that Lucius Malfoy had been lying when he said that he was under the imperious again, but, like last time, the idiotic minister fell for it. Of course, it was general public opinion that he had bribed his way out of prison, but opinions like that weren't mentioned in public.

And, of course, because his father was obviously the scum of the Earth, it meant that he was too. Draco wasn't arguing about anything that Hogwarts said about his father- he had long since stopped hero worshipping the man.

Of course, there were some things that were so ingrained in him, that he had been taught to do since he had started talking. He spoke properly, he walked tall, and mudblood was a perfectly good word to use. Now he knew that he couldn't go around calling people mudbloods, and that he shouldn't, but sometimes he forgot.

As it happened that Monday just wasn't going well. A 'T' on his most recent DADA essay started the day, with another one set. It was his third in a row. If he didn't want Lupin to send a letter home, he would have to get a passing grade on this one. It was a creature essay as well- Erklings. At least the curse essays could be made up in part, but the creature ones were solely based on fact. Of course, it didn't matter that he was probably never going to come across one of these creatures in his life, since he never wanted to go to Germany, Lupin still set the essay.

After the was Herbology, when the idiot who used to be known as Vincent Crabbe covered him in Bubotuber pus, which started to eat through his robes, ruining them. Draco was still refusing to talk to him- he could stew and suffer for a bit.

Lunch was alright- no terrible things happened in that hour, causing Draco to lower his defences. Which was the worst thing he could have thought of to do, Monday afternoons were Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Especially since Snape had decided that partners should be inter house, just to make Draco's day even better.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Greg and Longbottom's slime got upended on his new loafers, destroying them before his eyes. He thought he should probably be grateful it wasn't a dangerous potion they managed to concoct, but at that point he was so fed up with everything that he headed straight for the library, still barefoot.

He had been sitting at his table for two hours, trying to understand the Erklings, but the more that he read about them, the more he wanted to pull his hair out at the thought of them. There was only so many ways he could write 'they like to eat children', and even with thorough descriptions he couldn't get one foot, let alone the three that Lupin had set.

It was almost bad enough for him to bang his head on the table in annoyance, but that was not proper, and Malfoys should always be proper. They should sit up straight, looking down their nose at everyone else. At least in public, which the library unfortunately was. If he wanted to collapse, he needed to get back to the common room, and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon since Idiot #1 and Idiot #2 would both be there, and he didn't want to have to suffer through their company just yet.

He could always send a memo to Pansy or Daphne to summon them, but that could easily be intercepted. He didn't want anyone to know that he was currently a sitting duck in the library. An owl would be better, but he had no way to get to an owl so that was out too. So he was stuck with his stupid essay, hoping that no-one decided to interrupt him, especially not an idiotic Gryffindor.

By seven o' clock, Draco was starving, and there was still no way he would be able to leave the library and keep his shoelessness a secret. But he needed food and his head was killing him, so he would just have to be quick. And hopefully not slide all over the place.

He was packing up his quills and parchment into his bag planning his route out of the library where he would come across the fewest people as possible when he noticed a shadow in his vicinity. Which could only mean there was someone at his table, which was just what he wanted to top off his day from hell. He didn't even deign whoever it was with talking- he just glared at the smiling face that was looking across the table at him. He didn't recognise them, it was just another idiotic Gryffindor, but that made it worse. They would think that they knew him, and if they thought that he was just another miniature Lucius Malfoy, then he must be!

When the Gryffindor didn't respond to the glare that Draco had levelled on them, he turned back to packing his stuff in his bag. If all they were going to do was stand there, then he would leave them to do it where they weren't making him uncomfortable.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as that when the Gryffin-idiot standing at his table coughed. Not in the 'I'm-sick' way, but the 'excuse-me-I-am-here-you-know' way that only jumped up people did. So, Gryffindors and the odd Ravenclaw.

"What?" he snarled, turning the glare back to the girl who had disturbed him. Good for her, she didn't quake, instead looking him in the eye, brandishing a piece of parchment.

"Harry thought you might like the help." She smiled then, gesturing over her shoulder where, surprise surprise, the 'Golden trio' were sitting, surrounded by their adoring fans. Just great. Said Potter was looking over to Draco too, obviously waiting for the prank inside the parchment to work.

Well, Draco was not going to embarrass himself like that, so he just snatched the piece of parchment, stuffed it into his bag and went to leave the library for the safety of the Slytherin common room. Relative safety.

Of course, because today was the day that every deity decided to make Draco's day a living hell, when he was about half way across the library he remembered that he was only wearing socks, and then proceeded to slip on a trap that must have been lying in wait for him. He didn't fall over, but it had been a close one, and the squeals that he made were in no way dignified or Malfoy-ish.

He wasn't surprised to hear snickers from the table behind him, where the Boy-Who-Has-No-Fashion-Sense sat, but he straightened out his shoulders and just walked taller. He was not going to let them win this time.

At the doors to the library there was, of course, a gaggle of first and second years, who were neither in nor out the library, but making it so he could not leave either. His glare didn't work on them, either. Voldemort dying had had a terrible impact on the self-confidence of all the students- they thought they were Draco's equals, which just wasn't right.

When they continued to stand there, joking amongst themselves, Draco had just given up. He was going to get to his common room, and he didn't care what happened to all the other people in this castle. He needed his bed and he needed it now.

"Move."

A couple of them noticed him then, but there was still not enough space for him to get through. If he'd been Potter they would have parted, bowed down to him and showered him with compliments, but apparently he wasn't good enough for that. Even though he could ruin them, if he so desired.

"Get lost."

More noticed him then, and some almost moved, but then their friends pulled them back into position. Of course. This was Potter's doing, wasn't it? Damn him.

"Look, you little mudbloods-"

That garnered a reaction, but not the crying and cursing of the past. Instead they all looked at him with an intensity which he would never admit scared him slightly, before the one in the middle licked their palm. Before Draco could even look at them incredulously, they wiped that same palm down his face.

Draco had nothing to say to that, he didn't know what had just happened. Unless that was a muggle insult, which was likely since they were all uncultured slobs. Maybe his father had been right after all.

"You got mud on your face-" that was the one who licked him, however indirectly.

"You big disgrace-" half of them were chanting at that point.

"Kicking your can all over the place-" they were all chanting then, and he was pretty sure some of the people in the library had joined in too. Where was Madame Pince when you needed her?

"Singing we will we will rock you." Now, they started stomping and clapping to go along with the chanting, and when he looked back he saw Potter had joined in too, and was just smirking at him. That wasn't right. Potter shouldn't be allowed to smirk. It was against Gryffindor nature, surely?

The stomping meant that the little people in front of him weren't caring about blocking his way any more, so he just shoved them out of the way, while he could.

He just hoped it was his imagination that he heard Potter call out 'nice socks' when he was leaving, but knowing his luck that had happened too.

He was not going to leave his bed for a week.

**AN: all reviews welcomed, as are any muggleborn headcannons- just leave them in the comments! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: the characters you recognise belong to JK, and the headcannon came from Tumblr user misandryevans ;)**

October 1st, 2013

He hadn't really done much to end the war, but everyone still flocked to him, and who was he to say no to the hero worship? He tried to start with, but they just ignored him and continued following him around, so he might as well make the most of it. At least, that was what Ron said. Hermione, of course, was completely against using younger children for his own gain, but it made them happy, and that was what he felt was most important.

It also happened that they like copying what he did- the 'nest' hairstyle had become popular with the lower years since school had started again, and the number of snowy owls that could be seen during breakfast was massive.

There were even a couple of them trying to charm a lightning bolt onto their forehead so they could have that in common with their idol too, but that one didn't work out so well- more than a few had ended up in the hospital wing with varying facial disfigurements that weren't the lightning bolt scar that they wanted.

Fortunately Dumbledore had addressed that after the first dozen had ended up in the hospital wing, so they had stopped trying that one out. It didn't deter them from copying Harry, though, it just meant that they had to find new ways to copy him.

So when Hermione got her parents to owl them out some ball point pens and proper paper after he had complained to her for hours on end, it wasn't long before his little fan club were asking what they were, and how they could get them too. He didn't mind that they were there, but most of them were purebloods so had no idea what was going on at all. He continued to use the pens rather than the quills, and only did homework assignments on parchment, and about a week after he started, the fact that Harry Potter didn't use a quill wasn't really anything interesting anymore.

He was more than grateful for it- he could actually work in the library, rather than continuously being interrupted about his writing equipment, of all things. Everywhere else was fair game, but he had his safe haven back. In the library of all places.

It wasn't until the beginning of October that he realised ballpoint pens were quite common in Hogwarts now. It happened when he sat down at his favourite table in the library: near the back, so he could watch what was going on and react accordingly. In the middle of the table sat an innocent black pen. He would have thought it was his apart from the fact that its lid still hadn't been bitten to pieces.

Of course, he could just leave the pen on the table, for its owner to find, but he was bored. OWLs weren't for ages yet, so he didn't need to study that much just yet, and he wasn't behind on his assignments just yet. So it was a perfect time for him to find out who the pen belonged to.

The one thing that Harry did not consider when he decided to track the pen was the fact that so many of the students were still in awe of him, and could not have any semblance of a conversation with him. They would just look at him, eyes wide, as if they couldn't believe that he was actually talking to them.

It was the same in all the houses, as if they thought he believed house stereotypes and wouldn't talk to them. Especially the Slytherins. They always assumed everyone thought of them as the bad guys, so the fact that Harry voluntarily spoke to them often shocked them into speechlessness. The Ravenclaws were shocked that the great hero would want to talk to them when most people only found them when they needed help with school work, and the Hufflepuffs were often amazed that Harry acknowledged them. In some ways it was easier to talk to his own house, even if they were the more insane of his 'fans'.

As it happened, the two Creevey brothers were his best option. It had taken him three years, but Colin understood that Harry was just the same as everyone else, it just so happened that he killed You Know Who too. Unfortunately for Harry, because of this fact, the first years flocked around Colin in an attempt to get to Harry, as if he was his manager or something.

Colin would be a great manager if that ever became necessary, but he just hoped that everything would die down by the time that he left Hogwarts.

"Colin." Harry slid onto the bench next to him in the Great Hall, after wading through first years to get to the boy.

"Harry. Right. What's happening?" Colin asked, stuffing the papers that he had been working on into his bag. From what Harry glimpsed, it looked like pretty complicated maths of the muggle variety.

"Where have the pens come from?" Harry knew that Colin didn't expect or need small talk in a way to lead to a conversation, which meant that conversations were shorter and more could be learned. Better for both of them, really.

Colin laughed slightly, before smirking and tipping his head backwards to the direction of the Slytherin table. "Second year Slytherin. Muggleborn. Jake Smith, I think his name is. He started selling them last week, and people are paying a couple of galleons a pen at the moment."

That shocked Harry. The pens could be bought at about five for a pound in the muggle world, which was about four sickles. To be getting a couple of galleons meant that the demand must be massive.

"This was just me using pens really, wasn't it?"

Colin didn't even bother answering, just nodded his head and picked at his food. Harry could only roll his eyes. If that sort of money was being made now, it would never stop. He almost wished Voldemort was still around to fight, so he had something to focus on other than his new fan culture.

Harry stood up, to head over to the Slytherin table to find this Jake Smith. He wouldn't be able to stop him now, but the saying went 'if you can't beat them, join them', so he might as well. Maybe he could convince him to decrease the price, or give some of the money to a charity or something.

**AN: so, the next instalment of this roller coaster. I can't say when the next chapter will be up- I've just moved to university so everything is rather hectic with Freshers week and everything, so keep an eye out for the next chapter! I do have a plan though, so there are loads more chapters to come, just hopefully soon too...**

**If you have any ideas of your own, leave a review with them or PM me and I'll see what I can do :) **

**Thanks for the favourites and follows! I had a nice warm happy feeling for about 24 hours after each notification ;)**


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